


Death: On Christmas

by xpiester333x



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpiester333x/pseuds/xpiester333x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro is the incarnation of Death, and Sanji's mortal life is resting in his hands. Sanji seems determined to get himself killed on this day in particular, but maybe for Christmas it's worth the effort. My fic for the 2014 Zosan Christmas Exchange!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death: On Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the 2014 Zosan Christmas Exchange, which is hosted by kumiko-sama-chan on tumblr. I am day one so look forward to 30 other wintry zosan fics every day this month! I posted this to ff.net yesterday but forgot to cross post it here, so I apologize for the lateness.
> 
> Also, despite the title, you are spared the angst this year! Or rather, I have the angst planned for later :) This fic is set in the same AU as my fic 'Til Death Do Us Part', though you can read it as a standalone just fine. Also, it contains no spoilers for that fic, so if you haven't read that fic, you don't have to. This is more of a companion fic in the same AU.
> 
> Please enjoy and feedback is welcome!

“Just set that down in the corner for now,” Sanji instructed. “I have to dig the stand out of my closet.”

Zoro placed the tree in the corner, letting it slide to the floor a little less gently than he should have. Sanji shot him a look but Zoro ignored him. He was annoyed with the blond at the moment. Sanji had been singing – _singing_ – as they drove home from the Christmas tree farm. Before that, he had been _flirting_ with the female employees. And all this was _after_ Zoro had saved his stupid life.

Zoro was the incarnation of death, feared and respected by every culture – every human being – on earth… except for one man. And yet he found himself tied down to that man; that one man who couldn’t even be bothered to care about his own life.

Zoro was not tied to that man voluntarily. Well, in a way it might have been voluntary, but not entirely. Sanji’s curse called for his premature death, and it was Zoro’s job to collect on that. It would have been more convenient to send one of his projections after Sanji, but the blond’s curse called for Zoro's personal involvement. He had no way of knowing things would go this way. Zoro had never expected to find the blond so interesting, so full of life and the will to live. Zoro hadn’t expected to find it so difficult to do his job, he hadn’t expected to go against the orders of those more powerful than he.

And that was why he found himself tied to Sanji. He had stepped on too many toes to go home. Besides, Sanji’s death was still predestined from the moment he had been cursed. If Zoro left him alone, the blond would be dead within hours. Zoro couldn’t let that happen, so he’d taken Sanji’s life into his own hands. That might have been stupid, considering one touch of Zoro’s skin against any living creature’s would result in instant death, but the metaphor still stood. Sanji’s life had become something of value to Zoro, and he was determined to preserve it.

But the blond didn’t seem to have a care in the world about how hard he was making Zoro’s mission. Zoro knew from the moment they arrived at the farm that it was going to be trouble. Sanji led a dangerous life as is, the addition of chainsaws, axes, ropes, and trees the size of houses did not do him any favors. Zoro knew something was going to happen there, he expected it. When it did, he reacted with lightening quick reflexes to save the bastard’s life.

And how did Sanji show his gratitude? By flirting with the employees. In fact, from the moment his life was out of danger, Sanji no longer seemed to worry or care about the incident. Zoro knew the way humans reacted to death, he knew the fear in their eyes, the way they trembled and begged for their lives. Sanji, however, didn’t seem to have a care in the world about his near death experience that morning. He’d brushed it off easier than ever, like he’d grown used to the feeling of almost dying. What a terrifying thought.

“Here.” Sanji came out with a metal contraption that looked like some kind of torture device out of the middle ages. Zoro eyed the piece warily. Sanji would be stupid to try to take on the incarnation of death with a mortal weapon. But given Sanji’s unusual behavior today, Zoro wouldn’t put it past him.

“Help me get the tree in this,” Sanji said.

Zoro did as he was told, lifting the tree while Sanji slid the torture contraption onto the bottom of it. It was not a torture contraption for him then, but for the dying tree.

Zoro didn’t understand this Christmas tradition, or any of them, really. He was aware of the holiday, as Death he knew about the spiritual holidays of all religions. Their traditions, especially in the modern world, were another story. When Sanji had explained the concept of the “Christmas tree” to Zoro that morning, the whole idea seemed ludicrous. They killed a tree to take it home and string it with lights as part of their tradition? What did that have to do with the birth of Christ, the son of the Christian god? It was stupid, in Zoro’s opinion, but Sanji had insisted it was important. That was why he needed to risk his life to go to that obvious death trap and cause Zoro so much trouble while he was there.

“Good,” Sanji said. “You can let go now.”

Zoro released the tree. It stood on its own again, with the help of the torture contraption at the bottom. It looked weird, Zoro thought, sitting in a room along with Sanji’s furniture and modern electronics. It was a piece of life, a piece of the world they lived in, trapped inside the walls built to keep the world out. Humans were such strange creatures.

Sanji left the room again and Zoro stared at the tree. Earlier Sanji had almost impaled himself on a broken branch of a tree much like this one, and yet the idiot had still wanted to take one home. He hadn’t even hesitated to purchase one and have Zoro carry it to the car. Did he understand how hard he was making this for Zoro? Did he care?

He watched Sanji carry a box back into the room and set it on the table. He started pulling a random assortment of items out of it. First there were paper wrapped trinkets that dusted glitter as he moved them. Next came a collection of shiny golden orbs on a long chain, and a large, ornate star. Finally, a strand of small electric light bulbs. Zoro eyed the last one. Electricity and long, rope-like objects always presented a threat. Not that Sanji seemed to notice, he hummed a cheerful tune around his cigarette while he untangled the strand.

Sanji was a walking invitation for death. He defied the laws of nature by living and breathing right this second, and the powers that be would stop at nothing to see his life end. Zoro had failed in his mission to kill Sanji, so other forces would see to it Zoro had no choice in the matter. Sanji had never been the type to let that stop him from living his life, Zoro knew that from the start. It was Sanji’s passion for his life that had stayed Zoro’s hand in the first place. But Sanji usually exercised at least a little caution, and cared when his life was almost ended. He was usually at least a little bit grateful that Zoro saved his life. Why were things so different now?

Sanji wound the light strand around the dying tree. Zoro watched his progress, watched for potential danger. Sanji wrapped the light strand around starting from the top and working down the dying tree’s body. He had to reach awkwardly around the branches when the wall stopped his progress. When he reached the bottom, he paused, turning to look at Zoro with a pleased grin.

“Watch this,” Sanji said.

Zoro could see the disaster coming just a second before it struck. It wasn’t enough time to stop it from happening. His eyes registered the slight fraying of the wire just as Sanji was shoving the prongs of the plug into the outlet. He couldn’t muster his voice in time to stop the blond, and he couldn’t move fast enough to grab Sanji’s hand away. He could only watch as Sanji plugged in the light strand.

Sani’s body went rigid instantly. He jerked and twitched in minute, almost robotic movements. Zoro acted fast, ripping Sanji’s hand away from the cord. He could feel the sharp sting of electricity coursing through the mortal shell that he wore, but Death was not so weak as to succumb to something like that. Zoro jerked the cord out of the wall in one quick movement, and the electrical charge in his body died away.

Sanji’s body had crumbled the moment Zoro had removed his hand from the cord. Thankfully, he was still conscious and breathing, although his breath came out in sharp gasps. It was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe for a moment. His eyes were wide but staring at Zoro, a mixture of disbelief and gratitude swirling in the blue.

“Are you alright?” Zoro asked, standing over Sanji’s limp body. The blond’s muscles still twitched here and there. The hand that had been attached to the electrical cord was burned, but nothing too severe.

“I’m fine,” Sanji said, pulling himself up and groaning as he did. “Though I don’t recommend the experience.”

Zoro snorted but didn’t say anything. He crouched down to Sanji’s level, looking the blond over. Sanji put a hand to his head, and winced when he felt the burn on the other palm, but his movements and reactions seemed normal. Another close call then, but Sanji was okay.

Sanji stood and patted himself down, inspecting for damage. He looked his hand over, a worried frown marring his features as he ran careful fingers over the mark. The burn was white surrounded by sore pink flesh, but it was no worse than a burn he might get from the oven. Sanji wiggled his fingers and closed his hand into a loose fist. Assured that his hand still functioned, he moved on. He brushed his hands over his clothing, looking over the skin of his bear arms, but seemed to find no other harm done to himself. Except…

“Where’s my cigarette?” Sanji asked, frowning in confusion.

The spicy-sweet smell of burning pine answered that question.

* * *

 

Zoro sat at the table, watching with a sullen expression as Sanji prepared what looked like a feast. He wished Sanji would just call it a day and go to bed. He was much easier to keep an eye on while he was sleeping. Zoro sighed.

The Christmas tree still stood in the living room. Sanji had done his best to dress up the burnt tree, but the part where the branches were blackened and crumbling was still obvious beneath merry looking ornaments and glittering strands of gold and silver. There were no lights on the tree; at least Sanji hadn’t tried to press that issue.

It was amazing to Zoro that Sanji still had the energy to be up cooking a meal. Sure, the blond always loved cooking, and spent some time in the kitchen every night no matter how long his day had been. But Sanji was on his third near-death experience of the day. Shouldn’t he be tired enough to give it a rest?

Sanji hummed as he chopped an onion into small pieces. He didn’t seem to be the least bit phased by the events of the day. It was starting to piss Zoro off. The blond didn’t have a care in the world, he looked happy. Zoro rubbed at his head. Death did not get headaches, but Zoro swore he could feel one coming.

Sanji turned to gush more about one of the women at the Christmas tree farm, a silly smile on his face. Zoro didn’t listen to what the blond had to say, he was too busy watching the knife in Sanji’s hand. It moved up and down, slicing through a stalk of celery like there was nothing there. Sanji wasn’t even paying attention to it, and that was a problem.

“Watch what you’re doing,” Zoro snapped, trying not to sound as worried as he felt.

“I’m good enough with a knife,” Sanji grumbled, but he turned back to the cutting board anyway.

The meal took hours to cook. The day wore on outside of the windows, but Sanji never stopped moving. He slid a small turkey into the oven, and then started on the next dish. The kitchen filled with a variety of enticing odors; bitter, warm, savory, and sweet all danced together in the air. Even Zoro, who had no real desire for food, couldn’t help but want to try some.

Zoro had remained seated, watching Sanji and waiting for the next disaster to strike. On a normal day, Zoro might have relaxed, but today Sanji seemed to be determined to get himself killed. Zoro wasn’t going to let that happen.

The oven chimed its single high-pitched beep, and the flurry of motion in the kitchen seemed to pause for a moment. Sanji slid on a pair of oven gloves, and very carefully bent to pull the cooked bird out of the oven. His caution was not out of fear for himself, Zoro recognized; it was out of concern for the food. Sanji treated food as if it were the most valuable commodity on the planet, so of course he gave it more concern than he would give himself.

Sanji turned, pulling the gloves off his hands. “What do you think?” he asked, glancing back at the cooked bird.

It was a beautiful golden brown color, speckled here and there with the dark green marks of roasted herbs. It smelled incredible.

“It looks nice,” Zoro commented. It was not the compliment Sanji was looking for, but Zoro was in a foul mood, so that was the best Sanji was going to get out of him.

Sanji pulled the cigarette from his lips and looked back down at the bird. He didn’t look the least bit offended by Zoro’s less than enthusiastic remark. He looked cheerful actually. Too cheerful for someone who had almost died several times that day alone, too cheerful for someone who was cursed to die. And much, much too cheerful for someone who had Death himself sitting at the kitchen table.

“Well, let’s eat,” Sanji said, pulling out a large carving knife and setting to work on slicing up the bird.

Zoro looked across the counter at the variable buffet of food set out. Though he’d been watching Sanji cook all day, he hadn’t noticed how much food the blond was making. There were steamed vegetables, and plates heaping with fresh baked rolls. Potatoes had been mashed and baked, and sauces of varying colors and textures lined the counter. Something that looked like it was made out of wet chunks of bread sat in a large bowl by the bird. How Sanji expected just two people to eat this, Zoro couldn’t even imagine, but he accepted his plate and piled it high with the curious looking dishes.

Sanji poured wine for both of them (something Zoro did appreciate) and sat across from Zoro at the little dining table. His own plate was loaded with the feast as well and he eyed the food eagerly. He hadn’t eaten all day since he’d started cooking the meal, and Zoro could hear his stomach grumbling from where he sat.

“Let’s dig in,” Sanji said, immediately picking up his fork and knife and starting in on his food.

Zoro watched him, a feeling of foreboding dread sinking in to his chest.

“You might want to chew that first bite more carefully,” Zoro said, fixing Sanji with a warning stare.

Sanji did, and when he swallowed, he only needed to cough a little bit to get the food unstuck in his throat.

“Thanks for the warning,” he chuckled, moving on to his next bite.

They ate in silence. Sanji was too busy eating to hum the way he had been all day, and all of the sudden the apartment seemed much too quiet.

Zoro caught himself staring at the burnt, dying tree. It had been the cause of so much grief today. Well, it wasn’t the tree’s fault. Sanji himself had been determined to put this all together, and put himself at risk in doing so.

“Why did you do all this?” Zoro asked. It was the question that had been nagging at him all day. It lurked just beneath the surface, tugging at his thoughts and yet he pushed it down, ignored it. He was more content to think that Sanji’s crazy behavior had been just that, and he was irritated at him for not acting more seriously about everything. The idea of asking _why_ hadn’t occurred to him until just this moment, when things had finally settled into quiet.

“For Christmas,” Sanji answered, a one armed shrug accompanying the reply. He didn’t look up from his meal.

“If I recall correctly, the Christian holiday of Christmas is usually celebrated later in the month,” Zoro said.

Sanji didn’t respond immediately. He slowly chewed the bite of food he had taken, buying himself time to answer. Zoro waited. He had time, he had eternity actually, to wait for Sanji to answer.

“I’m finding myself a little rushed for time," Sanji began.  He gestured between Zoro and himself with his fork. “Since, all of this started, I mean. It’s not that I think you won’t try to keep me alive, but I can’t rely on you forever. Eventually, my time is going to be up.”

Zoro didn’t argue. Zoro did his best to keep Sanji alive, but he couldn’t promise he’d beat the odds forever. Even if he could, Sanji was human, at some point he would have to give up his life. Everyone died, it was only a matter of time.

Sanji continued, the barest trace of a sad smile on his face. “I love Christmas, and I wanted to celebrate it. This is probably your first time celebrating Christmas, right? It might not mean anything to you, but I wanted to have just one day to enjoy it.”

One day to enjoy the holiday. Zoro frowned into his food. Sanji had almost died three times that day, could that be counted as enjoyable? But… despite his near death moments, Sanji had made it out relatively unscathed. And if he’d been determined enough to enjoy the holiday, would Sanji let something so trivial as a burning tree or an electric shock put a stop to that? Probably not. That was just how Sanji was.

“Did you enjoy it?” Zoro asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Sanji smiled, a warmer, happier smile. “Well it’s not over yet,” he said. “We still have to exchange gifts.”

Zoro accepted that answer for now, but it didn’t make him any less curious about what went on in Sanji’s head.

* * *

 

Sanji was too excited after their meal to worry about the dishes. The blond usually had a set routine when it came to cooking meals. He cooked, ate with Zoro, and cleaned up after the meal. It had been that way for as long as Zoro had known him, but tonight was different. Sanji piled the numerous dishes into the sink and turned on the hot water, leaving them to soak.

“Come on,” Sanji beckoned Zoro. “Get your ass in the living room.”

How the blond still had the energy to move, Zoro had no idea. Sanji had piled plate after plate of food for Zoro, and as this point even Death felt ready to burst. But Sanji had matched him, eating a plate for every one of Zoro’s, and the blond was still thrumming with energy and excitement. He kept it locked under a cool exterior, but his aura was practically radiating.

Zoro thought about refusing Sanji’s command. He’d put up with enough from the blond already today, he shouldn’t have to cater to Sanji’s whims any more. But Sanji’s words from earlier still rang in Zoro’s head, and he could picture that sad smile. Sanji never showed that kind of emotion to Zoro. Since they’d met, Sanji seemed to accept his fate with grace. But this day was different, it was important to Sanji, enough so that Sanji’s life had taken a back seat to the events he had planned. That in mind, Zoro heaved himself out of the dining chair and followed the blond into the living room.

“Just sit there,” Sanji instructed, pointing to the couch.

Zoro sank into the cushions. The meal made him feel heavy and lethargic, and he was happy not to have to move any farther than he had.

Sanji disappeared again. Zoro didn’t bother to wonder where he went, though he did keep his ears open for any sounds of trouble. Sanji had successfully made it through his meal without choking. It was only a matter of time before the next disaster would strike. There was a rummaging sound, the crinkling of package paper, and then the sound of footsteps drawing nearer. Zoro’s eyes met Sanji’s as he reentered the room.

Sanji sat beside him on the couch and presented Zoro with a wrapped gift. Zoro looked at it, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Sanji rolled his eyes and thrust the gift at Zoro. “A present, moron,” Sanji said. “Just take it, open it, and be thankful.”

Zoro took the present from Sanji, still confused. The idea of gift giving was simple enough, but he’d never experienced it before. It was new to him, and strange. He felt uncomfortable as he tore into the paper, watched eagerly by Sanji. He could feel his face heat. Was gift giving an excuse for humans to humiliate each other?

The paper fell away to reveal a black piece of fabric. Zoro held the fabric out, allowing the folds to fall open and reveal more of its shape. It looked like the cloak Zoro always wore, but different. There was a hood, but the shape was much more constrained, and there was a shiny metal zip in the front.

“I thought you could use an update to your wardrobe,” Sanji explained. “Something to help you blend in with people better.”

“Is this because you want me to blend in better, or because you’re embarrassed by my cloak?” Zoro asked for clarification.

Sanji didn’t get mad, despite Zoro’s expectations. Instead he let out a barking, loud laugh. “Maybe a little of both.”

Zoro frowned but accepted the gift nonetheless. It seemed wrong to do away with it after it had been given to him.

“I… didn’t get you anything,” he admitted, feeling ashamed although he hadn’t been prepared for this.

“That’s okay,” Sanji shrugged. “If I said there was something I wanted though, would you give it to me?”

Zoro looked at the mock cloak in his hands. He wished he could return the favor, and give something back to Sanji. He didn’t have anything to offer the blond though, at least nothing that he knew about.

“If it’s something I can give,” Zoro said, “then I would, yes.”

Sanji smiled, a small, secretive smile. “Then do me a favor and close your eyes?”

Zoro’s brow furrowed, but he did as he was told. It was a strange request, but he figured he owed the blond. He could feel the fabric of his gift slide out of his hands. He let it go without resistance. He heard Sanji’s movements, and felt something press against his mouth. He stiffened.

“I won’t touch you,” Sanji assured him. “Just don’t move.”

Zoro didn’t. One touch, even accidental, of his skin against Sanji’s would kill the blond instantly. Zoro wore gloves, covered himself in fabric, all to prevent the blond from touching him. But Sanji still pushed the envelope with things like this. If the blond killed himself this way, Zoro wouldn’t feel sorry for him, but regardless he held as still as possible.

The fabric was the same as his gift, he realized. The sturdy, soft fabric matched that of the clothing that had been in his hands just a moment ago. He sat frozen, not daring to move, as he felt something else press against the other side of the fabric.

Zoro’s eyes snapped open in surprise, and they met with Sanji’s, much too close. Frighteningly close, actually. Zoro’s head snapped back, away from Sanji and the sleeve of the clothing, back where it was safe and Sanji was not at risk.

Sanji pulled back as well, although much slower than Zoro had.

“It was a kiss, idiot,” Sanji explained, answering the question Zoro hadn’t asked.

_A kiss_. Zoro sighed, “Don’t do that, it’s risky.”

Sanji shrugged. “It was what I wanted.”

What he wanted. It was the gift Sanji had wanted on his special Christmas day.

“Did you want another?” Zoro asked, frowning.

Sanji laughed again. “No, I had enough. I don’t want to scare you again.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Zoro grumbled defensively.

“Sure, sure,” Sanji said, still chuckling. His laughter faded off, and his eyes settled on the tree. He seemed distant, distracted by his thoughts.

Zoro let him sit in silence for a while, but the tree didn’t hold his attention at all. Instead, his gaze traced along the blond’s profile.

“Did you enjoy today?” He asked, curious what the blond’s answer would be now.

Sanji looked away from the tree for only a moment, sparing Zoro a glance. His eyes were back on the glittering ornaments when he spoke.

“I did,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Zoro.”


End file.
